Chapter 100 The Bloodied Vision

Chapter 100 The Bloodied Vision
My voice cracked, the tears I had been holding back finally spilling over. "That’s not fucking fair, but anyways, I don’t need his pity, I’m fine on my own."

Mara reached for me again, and this time I let her. She pulled me into a gentle embrace, her hand stroking my hair like I was a child in need of comfort.

"That’s not what I meant," she murmured. "I know he will explain everything to you soon enough."

"I don't have time." I pulled back, wiping at my tears. "I will sort it out myself. I’m not a girl in distress, not anymore."

"I know," she said softly. 

She stepped back, gesturing toward the table where a simple meal was laid out. "Come, eat something. You'll feel better."

I shook my head, my appetite was gone. "I'm not hungry."

"Sylvia,"

"I said I'm not hungry." My voice was sharper than I intended, and I immediately regretted it. I took a breath, forcing myself to calm down. "I'm sorry, Mara. I just... I need to be alone right now."

She nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I understand. But if you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me."

I managed a small, weak smile. "Thank you."

Then I turned and walked away.

The compound stretched out before me, familiar and foreign all at once. I had spent weeks here, learning its rhythms, its secrets. But I had never felt more like a stranger than I did at this moment.

Zarek had left.  

I walked until I found myself at the edge of the training grounds.

I sank onto a nearby bench, my head in my hands.

He will be back in two days. But what if he wasn't? What if something happened to him out there?

I quickly shook the thought out of my head. Zarek is invincible, I told myself.

I stayed there for a long time, allowing the cool breeze to calm me down, though it didn’t help that much.

When I finally stood, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The compound was becoming quiet, the wolves retreating to their homes.

I walked back toward my room, my steps slow and my heart heavy.

\--

Late in the evening,

The darkness came slowly, like water seeping through cracks in a dam.

I didn't fight it. 

I was too tired, too hollowed out by the events of the day to resist the pull of sleep. My body ached with exhaustion, my mind still reeling from everything that had happened. 

I closed my eyes and let the darkness swallow me whole.

At first, there was nothing. Just silence. Just the warm embrace of oblivion. 

But then the silence began to change, shifting into something else. Something that sounded almost like whispers.

I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn't. My body was frozen, trapped in the space between waking and dreaming.

And then I saw him.

Zarek.

He was on his knees, his body slumped forward, his head bowed. The moonlight fell across his face, illuminating the pale skin, the closed eyes, the blood that dripped from his lips.

"No." The word came out as a whisper, barely audible. "No, no, no,"

I tried to move, to run to him, to do something, anything. But my feet were rooted to the ground, my body frozen in place.

And then I saw it.

The silver knife was buried deep in his chest, the hilt protruding from his skin like a grotesque ornament. 

Blood gushed from the wound, dark and thick, pooling on the ground beneath him. It spread like a stain, reaching toward my feet, and I couldn't move, I couldn't look away.

"Zarek!" I screamed, my voice echoing through the emptiness. "Zarek, get up! Please, get up!"

He didn't move, neither did he respond. He just knelt there, bleeding out onto the cold stone, his life slipping away with every heartbeat.

I looked around desperately, searching for anything, anyone who could help. And that was when I saw her.

The White Witch stood a few feet away, her silver hair gleaming in the moonlight, her pale face illuminated by an otherworldly glow. 

She was smiling, a soft, sad smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"You," I spat, my voice shaking with rage. "You did this to him."

She tilted her head, studying me like I was a curious specimen. "No, you did this to him, the knife belonged to your hands, and he had it coming," she said, her voice soft and melodic. "He's been running from his fate for far too long."

"No." I shook my head violently. "No, you're wrong. You're lying."

"I never lie." Her smile widened, but it etched with sadness. "I only speak the truth, Sylvia. Even when it hurts."

I looked down at my hands, and the scream that tore from my throat was raw and primal.

Blood. My hands were covered in blood. His blood. It dripped from my fingers, staining my skin, my clothes, everything I touched.

I had done this. Somehow, some way, I had done this.

"No," I sobbed, trying to wipe the blood away, but it wouldn't come off. It clung to me like a second skin, marking me as surely as a brand. "No, no, no"

"Sylvia." The White Witch's voice was gentle. "Calm yourself. He had it coming."

"Don't say that!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "Don't you dare say that! You don't know him! You don't know what he's been through, what he's sacrificed,"

"I know more than you think." Her voice was sharp now, cutting through my hysteria. "I know what he's planning. I know what he's willing to sacrifice and I know that you are the only one who can stop him."

I stared at her, my mind reeling. "What are you talking about?"

Before she could answer, I felt a shift in the air. I looked back at Zarek, and my heart stopped.

He was gone.

The spot where he had been kneeling was empty, the blood fading into nothingness. It was like he had never been there at all.